My son, the equalizer

Laura and Cole

I recently had one of those "equalizing" kind of days. Let me explain.

I had a meeting Monday morning with a co-worker I’d never met before.

Well, we began discussing kids, and she says I look way too young to have an 11-year-old. I dare to say "Well, I'm 42." She says I really don't look 42. Apologies to any of my good friends who are reading this blog, but I now have a new BEST FRIEND. I have decided that I love her.

To all those married friends who say I, as a single mom, should be a cougar, HA! I don't look old enough to be a cougar. Besides, being a cougar implies that you have prey lurking about you that you could hunt. The only things that seem to lurk around me are piles of laundry and unpaid bills. Actually, I prefer to think that the prey is merely hibernating. Once he has made a small fortune, fine-tuned his household handyman skills, gotten his relationship with the Lord right, tried to solve world hunger and decided that 11-year-old little boys who love all things football are the coolest things ever, then he will come out of hibernation, and the hunt will begin!

Anyway, after my esteem-boosting morning, my son and I were hanging out in the den, and I said "Hey, look at this." I lifted my shirt just a little to reveal the weird red rash growing on my stomach. (Gross. I know. And gross to show my kid, but frankly there's no one else in this house to show weird skin disorders, interesting editorials or paint colors to.)

Cole, looking at my belly: "Wow, Mom, you're fat."

Me: "Well, thanks a lot, Cole."

Cole: "Actually I didn't mean it rude. Really it's like, wow, you don't look fat but you really are fat."

Me: "Again, thanks."

Where's my new best friend when I need her?

Laura Johnson